


And You Were There

by lenasmagic (dimensionhoppingrose)



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family Bonding, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other, Talking About Trauma, Trauma, fanfiction about fanfiction, magica is still a bad aunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 06:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimensionhoppingrose/pseuds/lenasmagic
Summary: Lena has a lot of questions, and she's not entirely sure she wants the answers. But avoiding her problems is quickly becoming Not An Option.





	And You Were There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohthewhomanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthewhomanity/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Morpheus Maze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194645) by [ohthewhomanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthewhomanity/pseuds/ohthewhomanity). 

> This is for ohthewhomanity's series, You'll Have A Place In It. tl;dr Lena is a real girl and survived the Shadow War and it's glorious, I strongly recommend it. I hope I did it a little justice here.
> 
> Full Series Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1128761
> 
> This story in particular is based on the story The Morpheus Maze (required reading to understand what's going on in this story, but it's so worth it). 
> 
> That story references events from The 87-Cent Solution in the story And You, And You, And You were there. You don't need to read that, basically Sick!Scrooge is a dumbass and blames Magica via Lena for his missing money.
> 
> I make this way too complicated, I know. Basically, read this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194645 to understand this story, and read the rest of the series just because it's great and has so much good fluff and hurt/comfort and angst (everything I look for in stories).
> 
> re: the title of this story being a rip off of the series rewrite - yeah, I know.... it's a reference to Scrooge's dream-walking through Lena's mind and helping her face her fears, and I like it, so I'm keeping it.

_ “And if I did this, what could you do? How could you stop me? You don’t know! How could you possibly know?” – _

Lena shot up with a sharp inhale that didn’t quite make it to her lungs; she smothered a cough in her blanket, trying to not wake Webby up. She managed, barely, and after a moment, she was breathing again. She slowly lowered the blanket, staring at Webby without really seeing her. She could still feel the heated wind ruffling her feathers, still taste the ash on her tongue.

It was just a dream.

She picked at her feathers for a moment before slowly crawling out of bed, watching Webby to make sure she didn’t stir, and only breathed freely when she was down in the library. Webby was a ridiculously light sleeper, which was no surprise, and sometimes Lena needed to slip away without Webby. Sometimes she needed space. Even if she didn't particularly want it.

She didn’t know what she was doing or where she was going until she found herself in front of Scrooge’s office door. It was ridiculous to think he’d be awake at this time, but still, she knocked.

And the familiar Scottish brogue called from within: “It’s open.”

And sure enough, there was Scrooge, sitting at his desk, listening to a record, holding a cup of tea. “This feels like a movie scene,” Lena said dryly as she stepped in. “Am I supposed to ask you for a favor now?”

Scrooge chuckled, reaching over to stop the record. “No, I believe that’s supposed to be the day of my daughter’s wedding. And seeing as I have no daughter…”

“Not to mention you’re a weird old softy who’ll give your girls anything they ask for.”

“You have me pegged.” Neither mentioned that Lena seemed to be including herself in the group of Scrooge’s girls. “Somethin’ tells me you didn’t come here to recreate scenes from movies, though.”

Lena sighed inwardly, dropping into the chair across from the desk. “What did you see in my dreams?”

Ah. There it was. Lena hadn’t asked about their dream-walking adventure after disaster with Morpheus’ urn. She didn’t remember a thing about it when she woke up. And Scrooge had been content to leave it that way until she was ready. Now, one way or the other, it seemed she was.

“I’ll tell you,” he said slowly. “But do you mind if I ask why?”

Lena let out a long breath, scrubbing her eyes. “Della told you about crashing on the island, I’m sure.” Scrooge nodded. “Something… happened. Webby and I were arguing about me lying to her, again, and she started talking about magic and why wouldn’t I use it, and I just kept telling her I can’t, and…”

Her eyes dropped to look at her hands. They were trembling faintly. “And then I wasn’t on the beach anymore. It was like a flashback, except it was something that never happened to me. I… I think I was on a volcano. It was hot and fiery, and I was yelling at… someone. It’s not the first time I’ve seen something like that but usually it’s…”

“In your dreams,” Scrooge concluded. Lena nodded. “I know you want answers right now, but I think it’s important for you to hear everything from beginning to end.”

“Okay.” Lena straightened up, watching Scrooge take one last sip of tea before setting it aside and meeting your gaze.

“I assumed your role in the dreams up until I found you. I saw everything from your point of view. I’ve managed to put together a few things on my own, but you can feel free to correct any mistakes.” Lena nodded again. “The first dream was… odd. Everything was too big, or I was too small…”

“And you were using magic to lift blocks into the air and then someone slapped you and asked if you wanted to be like your aunt Magica,” Lena finished for him, eyes still on her hands. “Yeah. I have that one a lot.”

“Was that your father?” No answer. Scrooge didn’t push it. “There was also a parade of what I assume were terrible foster families you stayed with over the years. How many homes did you end up in?”

“I don’t remember. I’d have to look at my shoe.” Scrooge raised an eyebrow, not getting the connection. “It was something I learned in one of the least awful group homes. The girl I was rooming with, she’d been in the system for eight or nine years and gone through twelve different homes. She kept track of how many she’d been in with ticky marks on the inside of her shoe. New clothes are a rare luxury, and shoes are one of those things you keep forever. On the off chance you get new a pair, it’s easy enough to move the marks over. I was between my third and fourth homes at that point, and there were a  _ lot _ more after that.”

Blimey. Scrooge didn’t want to bring up those memories again, but he did make a note to grab Lena’s shoe next time he could. “The next dream was… well, I was a shadow. I think I was being pulled into the shadow realm.”

Lena shuddered, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. That sounds right.”

“You know you’re not a shadow, right, lass?”

“Yeah. Mostly. I’m working on it.”

Again, Scrooge didn’t push it. “After that dream was, well…” He hesitated before pushing on. “Me. Us. The family.”

“I know that one,” Lena said quickly. “Don’t need the details.”

Her tone made it clear she didn’t want to go any further on that matter. Which was a shame, considering the next dream was the one she was dreading the most. “I found you in the fourth dream. We were on Vesuvius.” Lena’s fingers curled tightly together. “I thought you were fightin’ Magica. And you were bein’ stubborn, of course.”

_ “And if I did this, what could you do? How could you stop me?” _

Lena let out a shaky breath, finally looking at Scrooge. She hated the pity in his expression. “It wasn’t Magica, was it?”

The old duck shook his head. “You managed to figure out something worse than Magica comin’ back. You were fightin’ yourself. An older, slightly more evil version of yourself.”

“Slightly?”

Of course she wouldn’t let it go that easily. “You had… killed most of the family. But it wasn’t you—”

“No, just what I  _ could _ be.”

“But you  _ won’t _ be,” Scrooge said firmly. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and plenty of people to keep you on this side of the line where you belong.”

“And if you can’t?” Lena prompted, looking him square in the eye. “If nothing you can possibly do would keep me from turning into her. Then what?”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to hold you down and let Webby hug you until you’re better.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Scrooge leaned forward. “Lena, I have known Magica de Spell for a  _ very _ long time. She didn’t just go over the edge one day. She’d been building toward that moment for years. I didn’t know her when she was your age, of course. But the Magica you knew and the Magica I met years ago are two  _ very _ different people. Evil isn’t something you inherit — it’s somethin’ you learn to be. And it takes  _ years _ to get to where Magica was, and presumably still is. You have a family. You have people to keep you anchored on the right side of the line. And I truly believe that you won’t turn into her, or somethin’ worse.”

Lena locked her fingers behind her neck, taking a deep breath and nodding slowly. “I’ll… work on believing that.”

“Working on it is all one can ask for.” Scrooge tilted his head, frowning faintly. “Have you felt okay since that mess with the dream larvae?”

“Yeah. I mean, I slept for like ten hours after, and I think Webby clung to me the entire time, but I’ve felt fine since.”

“All right.” Scrooge nodded slowly. “But you’ll let me know if something like this happens again, right? A flashback to something that didn’t happen?”

“Yeah. I will. I promise.” She tried to smother a yawn, but Scrooge wasn’t fooled.

“All right. Back to bed with you then, lass. You children don’t get enough sleep.”

“Look who’s talking, old man. Aren’t you supposed to sleep like, fourteen hours a day?” Scrooge raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and Lena smirked back. “G’night, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Good night, Lena. Sleep well.”

Sometimes those words felt like an empty sentiment. But who knew? Maybe one day she would.


End file.
